Symphony
by Darker Still
Summary: Post merry-go-round. Scipio Fortunato has finally gotten the case he's been waiting his entire career for. After being hired to track down a missing girl, Scipio must delve into a world he hasn't dealt with since he was the Thief Lord. Slight ScipxOC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Post merry-go-round. Started typing this out on my iPod touch while at a baseball game a while back—thank GOD for that thing :) I've been sitting on this for a while; hope it's the tiniest bit original. This one's short, just a bit of an introduction. Feedback is the only thing that keeps it going.**

**Disclaimer: anything you recognize from _The Thief Lord _isn't mine :)**

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**Symphony (1)**

"You are a detective, yes?"

Scipio jumped up from his chair and spun around at the sudden voice, which had startled from his daydreaming as he looked out the window and out at the sunlit canal. A woman had appeared very suddenly in the office he and Victor shared, without so much as knocking. But she had a charming smile.

"I'm sorry," she said silkily, gesturing back at the door. "I didn't realize I should have knocked. I hope you don't mind that I let myself in."

Scipio was speechless.

"Oh. Silly of me. Do you speak English? _Parlate inglese?_" Her Italian wasn't great, but at least she'd used the right words.

"I speak English," Scipio said slowly. "Can I help you?"

The woman smiled and nodded. "Are you one of the detectives who works here?" she asked again.

Scipio nodded and held his hand out to her. "I'm Scipio Fortunato."

She shook his hand, lingering much too long than social protocol called for. "Eva de Luca." She smiled coyly. "Aren't you a little young to be a detective?" she asked flirtatiously.

Scipio tried not to blush. He wasn't sure how to respond.

Eva de Luca sat in the chair across the desk from Scipio, still smiling that straight white smile. "I'll get straight to the point," she said as he slowly sat down. She leaned forward slightly, as if she were going to tell a secret. "My daughter is missing. And please don't question me about whether I reported her to the police and all that; I did. I can tell you anything you need to know about her, where she disappeared from, how long she's been gone…" Eva de Luca took a breath, then plucked a photograph from her clutch. She slid it across the table to Scipio, who picked it up and examined it.

He'd thought Eva de Luca had been talking about a little girl; he was wrong. She was a teenager, seventeen or so. The girl had honey-blond curls that twisted in wisps around her face, and she had big brown eyes the color of chocolate. She was smiling in the picture, but it didn't reach her eyes. She was pretty.

Eva de Luca cleared her throat. "We were vacationing in France, and while we were on the Riviera, Camille just…disappeared. Everything she brought on the trip was gone, too, and she'd left a note." Eva de Luca dug a piece of paper from her purse and handed it to Scipio as well.

Written on a piece of hotel paper in a girlish scrawl was: _"Eva—I'm sorry I had to do it like this. But I can't live in your house anymore. I can't go another day. I know how selfish doing a thing like this is, but I'm afraid if I came back to America with you and spend another minute in that mess I call a life, I'll lose my mind and something terrible will come from that. Don't worry about me, and please don't come looking for me. I won't take any of your money from your bank account, and the moment I leave this hotel, I will be severing all of my ties to you and your family. I am no longer Camille de Luca. I'm not even sure if I'll be Camille anymore. All I know is where I'm going. I'm sorry. –Millie."_

"How old is she?" Scipio looked at the photograph again.

"Seventeen. Her birthday is in a couple of months, and then she'll be a legal adult." Eva de Luca's lips twitched in what seemed to be annoyance. "I want to find her before then, before February 14."

"Valentine's Day," Scipio said in surprise.

"Yes," Eva de Luca said, nodding. "Because then, she truly _won't _be Camille de Luca anymore. She'll be an adult, and I can't do anything about that." She noticed Scipio's expression. "I'm not trying to control her, Mr. Fortunato. She's my daughter, my little girl, and I want to hold onto her for as long as I can."

He sensed the lie in her words, but didn't say anything about it.

"How do you know she's here in Venice?"

"Before we went to the resort, I always caught her researching this city on Google, gathering as much information as she could before she had the chance to run away, I suppose. I came here as soon as she was gone, and I've been in touch with the authorities and orphanages, looking for any sign of her. Camille's a smart girl, though. If she doesn't want to be found, she won't be. She won't be out in the open—at least, not looking the way she does in that picture. I expect she's dyed her hair, cut it, straightened it…" Eva de Luca cleared her throat. "She may be difficult to find."

Scipio's mind was going a mile a minute. His entire career—ever since Victor had hired him after the merry-go-round—had been filled with solving petty, small-time cases. They'd never gotten him much money, or much of a reputation. Victor always told him how Prosper and Bo's case had made his career, and Scipio had been praying for a missing-person case every single day since then.

And now he had it.

But he wasn't sure he wanted it.

"I understand if you're a little intimidated by the challenge," Eva de Luca began, hoping to prod him into it.

She got her wish.

Scipio stopped her right there. "_Signora _de Luca. I never turn down a challenge."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I like the feedback I've gotten so far :) I hope you guys like this one, too. Review. Don't make me beg.**

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**Symphony (2)**

Millie de Luca pounded on the wall to her next door neighbors, glaring through the wall and hoping they could feel it. "Could you keep it down?" she shouted through the apartment wall. "I'm trying to sleep in here!"

Her voice didn't even interrupt the party.

She smacked the wall in frustration, then turned and crossed the apartment to the iPod dock sitting on a glass table. She set it to shuffle, and spun the volume dial up all the way, blasting Train's "Hey Soul Sister" at an unhealthy decibel level. She silently praised herself for insisting on buying such a nice stereo; it trumped the neighbors' lame little sound system.

Millie laughed to herself and danced around the apartment, singing at the top of her lungs. _"Your lipstick stains on the front lobe of my left-side brains; I knew I wouldn't forget you, and so I went and let you blow my mind. Your sweet moonbeam; the smell of you in every single dream I dream. I knew when we collided, you're the one I have decided, who's one of my kind." _Millie twirled into the kitchen, laughing and pulling her long, dyed-brown hair out of its bun to let it spin around with her.

"_Hey, soul sister, ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo, the way you move ain't fair, you know. Hey, soul sister, I don't wanna miss a single thing you do, tonight."_

Millie was too busy singing and dancing to notice that her roommate/semi-boyfriend had come back and was now staring at her as if she'd gone insane. Alessandro Cipriano stood there awkwardly, wondering if he should just keep walking like he hadn't seen anything or say something. He waited until she did a ballerina pirouette and spotted him through her thick bangs.

Millie immediately stopped and returned the stare, hoping she wasn't blushing. It wasn't a good sign that her face was hot.

She grabbed the stereo remote off the counter and paused the song without saying a word.

"Hi," Alex answered slowly, still with a furrowed brow. "What…are you doing?"

Millie coughed to clear her throat. "I was, um…dancing. I put the music on to cover up the sound of the neighbors. They're…um, really loud…over there." She pointed unnecessarily at the wall that separated them from the neighbors, where the party still seemed to be in full swing, and turned her back to him, silently screaming at herself for being so ridiculous.

Alex laughed and said something in Italian. Millie hated it when he did that; he only ever did that when he was saying something he didn't want her to hear.

She heard him drop his heavy backpack on the floor, then all the sudden the music started up again.

Millie looked over her shoulder and burst out laughing to see Alex dancing, too. He grinned at her, caught her hands in his, and pulled her close to dance with her.

They danced together to every song that came flooding through the stereo until the early hours of the morning, when the neighbors throwing the party came knocking to tell them to keep it down.

* * *

"Do you ever miss your family?" Millie asked Alex as she painted her toenails pale pink early the next morning.

Alex was groggy, having just been woken up by the nail polish fumes, and he looked at her sleepily from where he was lying in bed next to her. He hate how Millie was a lark—always up with the sun—when he was more of a night owl. Especially when she went and did something like this just minutes after six in the morning.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" he asked, grimacing at the disgusting smell of the nail polish.

Millie just smiled, and Alex sighed. He could never get angry at her—what with that cute smile.

"Do you?" she reiterated, dipping the brush back into the bottle.

Alex rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with his hands. "I dunno, Millie. Not really." He uncovered one brown eye to look at her. "You know they kicked me out."

Millie nodded absently.

"That makes it pretty hard to miss them."

She didn't respond.

"Why?" When she still remained silent, Alex sighed. "Did you miss your mom?"

"No," Millie said defensively, wishing she hadn't mentioned anything at all.

"Then why did you ask?"

Millie finally finished, and she twisted the cap back on the bottle, wriggling her toes. She shrugged. "Just asking."

"There's no such thing as 'just asking,'" Alex retorted. "Just tell me, Mill."

She sighed and gathered her thick, dyed-brown hair up on the crown of her head, tying it all off into a thick mass of curls. "I just…started thinking about my parents."

Ever since they'd gotten that divorce a few years back and her mom had gotten custody, everything had just fallen apart. Millie's life had gone straight to hell. It was a wonder she hadn't run away before. She was lucky enough to have run into somebody like Alex within her first few days in Venice.

"Do you miss them?" Alex asked her quietly.

"My dad, sometimes."

"What about—"

"You know I hate my mom," Millie answered coldly. "She chased my dad away, and she chased me away too."

"At least they didn't disown you." Alex smiled in spite of his statement. "That bit's pretty much a knife between the shoulder blades."

Millie just hummed and leaned back against the pillows, turning her head to look towards the balcony that looked out over the Grand Canal, which was filling with sunlight. It was almost blinding.

Alex sighed, then scooted over enough to wrap his arms around her middle.

"The note I left for her told her not to come and look for me," Millie began. "But I'm always afraid that she's going to find me."

"But she has no idea you came to Venice. And even if she did, how is she going to recognize you? You don't look anything like you did when you first came here." Alex turned her head until she was looking at him. "Why are you so worried?"

Millie bit her lip. "Just a feeling."

**

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"I don't even know how I'm going to find this girl! Her mother said she found all this research her daughter had been doing on Venice, but what if that was all just a trick? Camille doesn't sound like an idiot. She'll have dyed her hair—found a completely new identity!"

Victor raised his eyebrows. "I thought the same exact thing about Prosper and Bo. This city has so many places to hide—it's intimidating."

"You found them by _chance_—a stroke of luck."

Victor rolled his eyes. "_Fortunato_: the _fortunate _one." He clapped Scipio on the shoulder. "Don't doubt yourself, kid. There's only so many places she could be." He put on his coat, his favorite false mustache, then said his goodbyes and left the office.

Victor whistled as he walked down the steps and out into the sunshine of the later November day. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the unique scent of Venice, then turned to walk.

He bumped into somebody, knocking them aside.

"Oh, _scusi!_" he said immediately, turning to the couple who had been walking in the opposite direction.

The girl—a pretty brunette—was rubbing her shoulder, having pulled her hand free from the boy's to do so. But she smiled sweetly at Victor. The boy took her hand again, tossed a casual, "_È benissimo_," to Victor, and then the couple was on their way.

Victor started to walk again, but glanced back after them. Something about that girl…

Nah. Couldn't be.

He continued on his way, whistling again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it's been a while. This one's shorter than I'd like it to be, but it's an important one. Have I ever mentioned I always respond to reviews? (Check your emails for that one, though.) I always appreciate them.**

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**Symphony (3)**

"I got you something last night," Alex said, catching Millie's attention from the thick, smart-looking novel she was reading.

She smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"

Alex grinned and nodded. "But you have to close your eyes."

She kept her eyebrows raised, but giggled and closed her eyes. She felt the couch cushion beside her sink as Alex sat next to her, and something thin and cold went around her neck. She felt Alex's warm hands touch the back of her neck briefly, then pull away.

"Okay."

She opened her eyes and looked down, picking the pendant up from where it was perched on her collarbone. "It's gorgeous," she said, almost speechless. The necklace didn't look ridiculously expensive, and it wasn't made of diamonds, but she knew Alex had gotten it—_or stolen it_—because he knew how much she loved birds. The thin gold chain circled her neck and met in the front, on the outstretched wings of a songbird. The intricate gold carving was carefully painted to look like a blue jay.

Alex gave her a brilliant white smile. "I knew you'd like it."

"I love it." She set her book face-down on the arm of the couch to mark her place, and she threw her arms around Alex. "Thank you." After a few moments, she amended, "_Grazie_."

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"It's my first real case, and as much as I hate admitting this, I might need a lot of help," Scipio told Ida. He handed her a copy of the photograph of Camille de Luca. "I have no idea where to start. I was wondering if she might look familiar to you."

Ida hummed to herself as she studied the photo. "Pretty girl," she mused. "I'm sorry, Scipio. If I have seen this girl before, I would not be able to recall the day or time. I could, perhaps, search my own photographs; there may be the chance she has shown up on one of the films. I will keep a sharp eye, though, the next time I go out."

"I think she may have changed her appearance."

"Smart thing to do, if you don't want to be found. Unfortunately for her, you can't change your face." Ida smiled. "I'll have Prosper and Caterina look as well. We're all more than happy to help."

* * *

It was getting increasingly difficult to locate Riccio and Mosca in Castello, Scipio noticed. They never seemed to settle down in one place for very long.

He did, however, spot Mosca in his boat, floating about idly with a fishing rod, and he waved to get Mosca's attention. Mosca grinned and waved back heartily before rowing his boat back towards shore.

"Haven't seen your face in a long time," Mosca said as he moored his boat and climbed out.

"Well, you're not exactly easy to find these days, Mosca."

He grinned in response. "Riccio's a paranoid one. Still living on the wrong side of the law. He seems to think if we don't keep moving, the _carabinieri _will finally catch up to him."

"I need your help," Scipio admitted reluctantly.

"Did I hear right? The great detective needs _our _help?" a familiar voice rang out.

Scipio turned and saw Riccio approaching, grinning with his uncared-for teeth.

"Well, isn't that a pleasant surprise," Riccio drawled.

Scipio scowled and handed Mosca the photocopy. "I'm looking for this girl."

"Why, did she run out on your date?" Riccio teased.

Scipio finally ignored him and asked Mosca, "Have you seen her?"

Mosca studied the photograph, then finally shook his head. "No. I haven't."

"Let me see." Riccio snatched the photocopy from his friend and looked it over almost impassively. Then he looked up. "I know this girl."

Scipio thought he was joking. "Very funny—"

"No, I'm serious!" He shoved the picture back at Mosca, insisting, "Look at it again! You don't recognize her? That's Cipriano's girlfriend, isn't it? Only she has blond hair in this picture."

Mosca studied the picture a bit closer, then finally nodded in agreement, stunned. "It's her."

Scipio was excited—he finally had a lead.

"Where can I find her?"

Riccio looked at him, opened his mouth to speak, but instead shrugged. "No idea. We don't even know where to find Cipriano."

"Who is that?"

"A thief," Mosca interrupted, scowling at Riccio. "A very dangerous thief Riccio's gotten involved with. He has this pretty little girlfriend we see from time to time, dark-haired, though. Not blond like in this picture. He gives Riccio money in exchange for anything interesting he's stolen."

"We saw him just the other day," Riccio piped up. "I sold him a necklace with a stupid little bird on it that I swiped from a jewelry stand in St. Mark's square. He was probably going to give the girl the necklace." He poked the picture to make a point. "Why are you looking for this girl anyway?" Riccio asked curiously.

"Her mother came to me about a week ago, looking for her. She ran away, and her mother just wants her to come home."

"Touching," Riccio said sarcastically. "She's probably better off with Cipriano. Kids don't run away from their parents for no reason—have you ever thought about that? That this girl doesn't want to go home? That there was a real reason that became her motive for running away?"

No, Scipio hadn't thought of that. He, of all people, should have known that money couldn't buy happiness, especially with an uncaring parent who gave their children everything but their love.

"What's her name? Your thief's girlfriend?"

Mosca shrugged, but Riccio said instantly, "Millie."

"Do you know her last name?"

Riccio shook his head.

"Do either of you have any idea where I can find this Cipriano?"

"No. And even if we did, you wouldn't want to meet him, especially if you're just there to take his girlfriend back to her mother," Riccio said. "He's a callous jerk, but you can tell by the way he looks at that American girl that he's completely head-over-heels for her. He'd do anything for her."

"Didn't realize you paid so much attention to your friend's girl," Mosca muttered.

Riccio glared at him, but didn't answer.

"What's Cipriano's first name?"

Riccio shrugged. "No idea. He's a mysterious kind of guy. I could list off all the things I know about him and I would only be using one hand to count."

Scipio sighed, but said, "Thanks for your help, anyway."

As he left to head home, he found himself thinking once again that, even though he'd finally gotten a lead, this was still going to be much harder than he'd like it to be.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This one's a shortie. Review? Please?**

**Awesome reviewers I'd like to thank: horsechick27, mathcraze, Lily Kilara Silver, WinterSky101, and sweetlilsunshine. You guys are my favorites :)**

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**Symphony (4)**

_Cipriano, Cipriano, _Scipio repeated in his head as he flipped through the phone book in search of the surname. When he finally reached _Cip- _in the phone book, he found Cipriano. He scanned the names, coming off with a list containing about ten Ciprianos who resided in Venice, according to the phone book.

He wrote down the small list of names and addresses, sighing and getting ready to set out again, to do things the old-fashioned way.

He wished he'd gotten some sort of description of Cipriano from Riccio, so he would know what to look for; he hadn't thought of that until he'd gotten back to Victor's flat. He figured the only way he would find Camille de Luca was if he saw her with one of these Ciprianos.

He sighed to himself as he walked out the door.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Millie sang along to the song playing over the stereo as she read Leo Tolstoy. Although she had to admit that _Anna Karenina _was a bit too boring for her, when she typically read novels that were much more modern and more interesting. Tolstoy was, however, Alex's favorite author—_God knows why_, Millie thought—so she figured she'd give his works a try. _Anna Karenina _had been slightly less intimidating than _War and Peace_, she she'd figured it would be a good place to start.

She had to admit, though, that she was paying more attention to the music than she was to the novel.

The book reminded her slightly of _Gone with the Wind_, a movie she'd seen many times but a book she'd never once touched. In a way, Anna made her think of Scarlett O'Hara.

She sighed as she flipped through page after page, wishing Alex hadn't gone out and left her alone in the apartment, as he so often did. She finally dog-eared the page and set her book aside to lounge on the couch, pouting to herself. Millie had always been a social creature, and she'd never been fond of being on her own. Alex was constantly gone, and she was miserable without him.

She turned her music down to a dull drone in the background to nap, but just as she settled down, she heard a knock at the door.

Millie sighed, but got to her feet and walked towards the door, dragging her feet. She yawned and opened the door, revealing a tall and lanky man who was staring at a sheet of paper.

"Can I help you?" Millie asked. She realized she'd spoken in English and was about to correct herself when the man spoke without looking up from the paper.

"Does an Alessandro Cipriano live here?" he asked in an accented voice, though in perfect English. He looked up from the paper and at her, smiling. Something flickered in his eyes—recognition?

Millie raised her eyebrows. "Yes," she said slowly. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Scipio Fortunato."

"And…are you a friend of Alex's?"

He smiled a little. "You could say that. Can I come in?"

"I don't let strangers into my apartment," Millie answered, wishing Alex was here. This stranger was by no means threatening, but all the same, she'd feel safer if Alex was with her. "He's out at the moment. I'll let him know you stopped by."

She began to close the door, but Scipio Fortunato asked her one more question, "And who might you be?"

"A friend of Alex's," she answered.

"I was asking for a name."

Millie hesitated, then replied, "Millie de Luca. Why?"

Scipio Fortunato shrugged. "I always need a name to go with a face. For future reference."

She smiled slightly, and Scipio Fortunato bid her _"arrivederci" _before turning and walking down the hall towards the stairs, whistling slightly.

* * *

Scipio glanced back over his shoulder before he reached the stairs, but Camille de Luca had already shut the door again. But he smiled to himself and drew a circle around _Alessandro Cipriano _on the sheet of paper.


End file.
